Winter
by bionic4ever
Summary: Jaime is married to Michael and Steve to Jenn...but is either marriage what it seems? When the unthinkable happens, who will pay the ultimate price? Everyone has motive and opportunity but...who did it?
1. Prologue

**Winter**  
Prologue

Jaime stared out the window, growing grumpier by the second and wishing she could melt the frost and icicles if she simply glared hard enough at them. "I hate Winter," she sighed, leaning into her husband's arms as he stood behind her chair, watching the snow.

"We're working on a new power pack that'll hopefully radiate more heat," Michael told her, kissing her cheek. "In the meantime, we could always head out to Ojai for the Winter so you don't feel so cooped up."

Jaime shook her head. "With Jim and Helen on such a long cruise, everybody we know is in DC now. I don't wanna be isolated just because my stupid legs don't like the cold!"

"You're isolated now," Michael pointed out. He was right. When Winter was at its harshest, a simple trip to the grocery store was a huge production for Jaime. When the thermometer dropped below zero, she'd bundle up with more layers than an Eskimo to avoid possibly life-threatening complications. If her power packs froze in the extreme cold, there would be little Jaime could do to help herself – so this had to be avoided at all costs. Most of the time, she simply chose not to go out and felt like a prisoner in her own home...and in her own body.

"The radio says we could get another two feet of snow, minimum," Jaime sighed. "All of this strength you and Rudy gave me – and I can't even help shovel."

"Which reminds me," Michael said, leaning down to kiss her more fully, "I'd better get to it."

"I'll make the hot chocolate," Jaime told him sulkily. She lit a fire as Michael headed outside and nearly tripped over her own feet in a rush to answer the ringing telephone. Any diversion from her boredom was certainly welcome.

It was Steve. "So how does it feel to be a newlywed?" Jaime asked him. There was silence on the other end of the line. Jaime didn't know it, but she'd hit a raw nerve.

Finally, Steve spoke, so quietly even Jaime could barely hear him. "I think I made a terrible mistake..."

- - - - -


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One

"I think Jenn and I should've just stayed good friends," Steve confided.

Jaime was shocked – they'd seemed so happy less than a month ago, at the wedding – but she stayed calm on the phone, for Steve's sake. "I'm so sorry to hear that....I had no idea..."

"Do you think we could meet somewhere?" Steve asked. "Just to have a cup of coffee and talk? I think it might really help to hear a woman's viewpoint – and I know you'll be honest with me."

"I wish I could, but Michael won't let me go out when it's this cold -"

"_Won't let you?_" Steve bristled. "I don't like the sound of that."

"It's too dangerous. My...um...power pack could freeze."

"I go outside all the time."

"Your legs are thicker," Jaime said sensibly. "More insulated."

Steve frowned. The Jaime _he_ knew wasn't this easily dissuaded from what she truly wanted to do. He suddenly got the feeling she needed to see him just as badly as he needed to see her. "I think it'd do you some good to be out of there for an hour or two. I could pick you up in a nice, well-heated car...?"

Jaime laughed. "Tell you what. You come over here and I'll make a fresh pot of coffee. Michael's headed down to the lab as soon as he shovels out the car, so we'll have time to talk."

"I'll bring the donuts."

- - -

"Are you alright?" Steve asked gently, passing the white pastry box to Jaime.

"We're here to talk about _you_ – remember?" Jaime said, avoiding the issue entirely.

"We will. But...I'm worried about you."

"Me? Why?"

Steve looked directly into Jaime's eyes – and was truly alarmed by what he saw before she quickly looked away. "I've never known you to let anybody call the shots for you," he said simply.

"Michael loves me and he just wants me to stay safe."

"He's controlling you, Jaime. I can't believe you're letting him."

"He means well. And he and Rudy are working on a new heating component, so this won't be forever."

Steve was quiet, taking in this new persona she had suddenly acquired. A quiet, obedient housewife – Jaime? Not in a million years. "You said he loves you, but...do you love him?"

"Yes!" she insisted.

"Are you _in love_ with him?" Steve probed.

"He's my husband!" Jaime smooshed what was left of her donut in her clenched fist, then bustled around the kitchen looking busy until she'd settled down a bit. "Tell me about you and Jenn," she requested, pouring two more cups of coffee.

"Jenn is sweet, she's a good wife and...I love her," Steve said slowly.

"Okay – so what happened?"

"Nothing, really," Steve hedged. "Like I said, she's a good wife – and I really thought we could be happy together – but she's a _wife_ and not a _partner_. Not like..." Steve's voice trailed off before he could allow himself to say _not like we would've been_. "Not like what I expected," he concluded.

Jaime nodded in complete understanding. "I don't think marriage is ever what we expect it to be. But you have to give it time to grow. It's only been a month for you two! You have to nurture what's between you to keep the bond strong."

"Are you happy, Jaime?"

In truth, her husband was at the lab far more than he was home with her...and Jaime was beginning to prefer it that way. It was so hard to separate Doctor Marchetti from just plain Michael. His firm, confident bedside manner didn't translate well into a true partnership with his wife – and being just a homemaker had never been one of Jaime's ambitions. She'd moved with him from Colorado to DC because Rudy was based there and Jaime hoped her proximity to OSI Headquarters would prompt Oscar to give her more than the occasional assignment. Since the move, though, she hadn't worked at all – and strongly suspected Michael had a great deal to do with that. _Was she happy....?_

"Sometimes...." she finally admitted.

- - - - -


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

_Sometimes._ The word hit Steve like a pile driver to his gut. The only way he'd been able to let Jaime go – to get over her and move on – was to convince himself that she was in good hands and well on her way to a happy life. But...was she? "Sometimes," he said, repeating what Jaime had said. "Is that enough?"

"It _has_ to be," she answered resolutely. "Tell me about the honeymoon."

"It was...nice."

"Well, I'm sure convinced." Jaime shook her head. There had to be more to the story – something Steve wasn't telling her. "Did you have a fight?"

"Nothing like that. Jenn and I...we get along fine. Smooth sailing."

"But you've always been one who prefers the open water, a little wave here and there," Jaime noted.

"Yeah. Someone who's not afraid to tell me when I'm being a jerk. Like....like you used to do."

"Steve, you and Jenn are still new to each other. You have to give things time to settle into place, to learn how the pieces fit together." Jaime blushed, realizing how that might sound. "I – I didn't mean -"

"Relax," Steve chuckled. "I know what you meant. And you're right. She's a good woman, keeps a clean house, an excellent cook – and she loves me. I don't doubt that for a second. I should be happy..."

Jaime understood. She couldn't picture Steve with a woman curled up at his feet like a Persian cat. He needed a challenge, like a spirited horse or like...._No!_ she chided herself, forcing the thought from her mind. "You're bored," she noted softly.

"Exactly."

"Does Jenn know that? Does she even know you're here, talking about it?"

"Of course not. The last thing I want is to hurt her! She knows how I feel – how I _felt_ – about you."

There it was, courtesy of a Freudian slip. They both had to ignore it (there really was no other choice) but it was an elephant in the room - too much to deal with and impossible to ignore.

"I think you should talk to her," Jaime suggested. "She can't fix something she doesn't know is broken."

"It would break her heart....she's been trying so hard."

"She's trying _too_ hard. And maybe that's the problem. She senses that something's wrong, that you're unhappy - and you're shutting her out, denying what's on your mind. I know how you can be. Don't do that to her!"

"_How I can be?_" Steve laughed. "And how is that....?"

Jaime grinned. "How honest do you want me to be?"

Steve laid both of his open palms on the table. "Hurt me...if it'll help."

"Well....you're a _man_, so that's strike one right off the bat."

"Oh, really?"

"It's a known fact – testosterone warps the brain, keeps you from thinking logically. Anyhow....you really wanna hear this?"

"I wouldn't have asked you if I didn't."

"Okay. You can be stubborn, single-minded and sometimes kinda pig-headed when you get your mind stuck on something."

"Ouch," Steve responded, chuckling all the same.

"Occasionally, when I know you're just being a gentleman," Jaime said more slowly, "you can seem...well...a little chauvinistic."

"I get the picture," Steve told her. "And I'll work on that."

"_And_ -"

"I think that's all my over-blown male ego can handle, thank you." He smiled at Jaime as he got up from his chair. "I really would like to make it work with Jenn – and I appreciate you taking the time to listen and be so honest."

Jaime got up with him, walking with him down the hall. They stopped in the foyer and Steve gently took her hand. "Thank you," he said simply.

"Any time," she answered, leaning toward him for a quick 'friends-only' hug.

At that exact moment, the front door opened....and Michael stood on the porch, shivering in the cold and glaring in disbelief.

- - - - -


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

"Jaime...?" Michael's faced paled at the sight of another man's hands on his wife – especially since those hands were Steve's.

Jaime took a step toward her husband, looking regretfully at Steve. "If you need to talk..." she told him.

Michael scowled. "If he needs to talk, he can call a shrink." He wrapped one arm firmly around Jaime, pulling her into the house as Steve stepped outside.

Steve turned around, ready to defend Jaime from what he feared might be coming, but the door closed in his face and dejectedly, he headed back to his car. He decided to take the long route home, needing the extra time to think.

_Jaime and Michael_....the picture was jarring and _wrong_. Still, was it really any of his business? Jaime was his friend, nothing more; after all, he was married now. He could see Jenn sitting by the big picture window as he pulled up the driveway. When she spotted his car, she bounded out of her chair and opened the door with a sweet, loving smile on her face.

"I missed you," she said, wrapping herself around him and handing him a drink. "Dinner's almost ready – I made your favorite pot roast." Her long, nearly-black hair was tied back with a bright sapphire blue ribbon that almost matched the color of her eyes...and those eyes were shining with excitement as she stood on tip-toes to kiss Steve's cheek.

"Smells great," Steve acknowledged, trying to shake off his preoccupation. He wasn't forgetting for a moment just how lucky he was to have this woman in his arms. Jenn was beautiful, attentive and sweet. He forced his thoughts back to where they should be – with his wife. "Got time for a drink first?" he asked, sweeping her into a deeper kiss.

"Already made and waiting for you." She eyed him anxiously as she handed him a glass. "Is...something wrong?"

"Nothing that seeing you didn't fix."

- - -

Jaime could feel the tension building and spreading through the house like a thick, suffocating blanket. Michael had stormed into the bedroom without uttering a single word to her. He had taken a shower, rifled through the entire closet before getting dressed and then poured himself a drink before finally heading into the living room where she waited quietly for him.

Even after he'd sat down, put his feet up and taken a long swill from his martini, Michael didn't speak. Jaime had long since gotten used to his silent, morose brooding....but today, in this situation, it was simply unbearable. "Michael...?" she began in a near-whisper.

Michael stared into his drink and then downed the remainder in a single gulp. He looked over at Jaime with dark, angry eyes. "Care to explain what that was all about?" he seethed. He didn't wait for an answer. "Well, let me tell you – it was a real treat to walk into my own house and find my wife in the arms of her former lover. Maybe 'former' is the wrong word for him, huh?"

"You know me better than that," Jaime said softly.

"I also know Austin. And I don't trust him – especially when it comes to you."

"He's _married_, Michael!"

"Yes – and so are you – and yet, there you both were..."

"We weren't exactly rolling around in bed!" Jaime snapped.

"Too bad I came home so early then, huh?" Michael shook his head. "He had no business putting his hands on you."

"**I** hugged **him**."

"That makes me feel so much better. I don't want him here when I'm not home, Jaime. Hell, I don't want the man anywhere near you – ever."

"_Excuse me?_" Jaime felt positively floored. "Are you giving me orders now?"

"You heard what I said. If you have a problem with it, then I guess my next talk will be with Austin's wife, telling her to keep him on a shorter leash." Michael set his empty glass on the coffee table, glared harshly at Jaime and slammed into the bedroom, locking the door. Jaime was alone in the living room...and alone in her heart. She took the afghan from the back of the sofa and stretched out, trying to will herself to sleep.

- - - - -


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Rudy got to his lab at the usual time (before the sun had fully risen) – and was shocked to see Jaime dozing in a chair in the hallway. He tiptoed past, not wanting to wake her, but she stirred when she heard his key turn in the lock.

"Good morning," he said, trying to hide his alarm at the sight of her drawn, pale face and red-rimmed eyes. "I'm afraid Michael's not here yet."

"I know where Michael is," Jaime told him sadly. "Rudy...can I talk to you?"

"Come on in," he invited, gently placing an arm around her shoulder. "Coffee's fresh – I have it on timer. Looks like you could use some." Jaime nodded her thanks as Rudy handed her a steaming mug. "Now, what can I do for you?" he asked gently. "Are you sick?" (She certainly didn't look well.)

Jaime shook her head miserably. "Michael's not happy..." she began.

"Oh, I wouldn't say that -" Rudy protested.

"I would. And...it's getting worse, Rudy. He doesn't _talk_ to me! Either he sits around brooding into a martini glass – or he delivers orders like a doctor to his patient....and I'm not his patient when we're at home!"

"Of course, you're not," Rudy sympathized. "Honey, for what it's worth, I know Michael loves you – very much. He may not be the most expressive man God ever put on the planet, but his feelings are genuine. I promise you that."

"I love him too – I really do – but...I blew it. I did something awful..."

Rudy gently took her hand. "Honey, if you did it, it can't possibly be that awful."

Jaime couldn't hold back the tears as she told Rudy everything that had happened the day before, from Steve's phone call to Michael locking himself in the bedroom for the night. "And now, I've gone outside in the cold when he told me not to. He'll be furious...."

Rudy frowned. "Jaime, I'm not sure what Michael told you, but if you're well-bundled and in a heated car...you're in no danger." He made a mental note to himself that a chat with his young cohort would be on the top of his 'to-do' list.

Jaime was very quiet and (if it was possible) grew even paler as the information sunk in. Had she really spent the last few weeks as a virtual shut-in for no reason other than her husband's whim? She dried her eyes with a tissue and rose resolutely to her feet. "I guess...I have a lot of thinking to do," she said quietly.

Rudy tried to stop her, to offer to talk to Michael himself...but Jaime was already gone.

- - -

It was still very early morning when Michael emerged from the bedroom – and Jaime was waiting in the kitchen with French toast, sausage, a smile...and a plan. Acting every bit the dutiful wife, she served him his breakfast, cleared his plate when he was finished and then stood behind his chair, gently massaging his shoulders.

"That feels really good," he told her.

"Well, you do so much for me. I mean, all the time you've spent working on a new heating component, just so I can go outside..."

"Anything for you, Love."

"Do you think it'll be ready before Spring gets here? Maybe we could take a trip up to the cabin some weekend, build a snowman and just...have fun." Jaime wondered to herself if Michael had the slightest inkling what 'fun' even meant.

"I'm really trying, but next Winter for sure."

"Uh-huh." Jaime gripped his shoulders a little more firmly, turning him to face her. She pulled a chair directly across from him and sat knee-to-knee, staring him straight in the eyes. "There is no new component – is there, Michael?"

"What are you talking about?"

"In fact, it's perfectly safe for me to go outside any time I damn well choose, as long as I'm sensible about it. Why would you lie to me?"

"Did Austin put you up to this?"

"Oh, leave him out of it! He has nothing to do with the fact that my husband has turned me into a recluse – supposedly 'for my safety' – but really for whatever your own selfish reasons might be! Why, Michael? Why would you do this? _I love you!_" Jaime brushed a single angry tear from her eye. "You know what? It doesn't matter. Without trust, there is no marriage – and I obviously can't trust a word that comes out of your mouth."

"Jaime, please listen -"

"No! I'm done listening to you. I'm getting a lawyer and -"

"You're not leaving me, Jaime," he said in a low voice.

"Watch me."

"If you leave....I'll call Jenn Austin. I'm sure she'd be interested in knowing her husband put the moves on my wife."

- - - - -


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Jaime stared wordlessly at the stranger who inhabited her husband's body. If Michael had chosen any other threat, she could've laughed it off, but she couldn't stomach the thought of Steve's new marriage being ripped to shreds and although she didn't know Jenn very well, Jaime couldn't bear to cause suffering to a totally uninvolved, innocent party. Still...who _was_ this person sitting across from her?

Things had seemed so promising, not that long ago. Their relationship had started gradually, from a mutual attraction at the Colorado Springs complex – something they both tried to ignore due to the ethics involved. Michael had been so kind and gentle then, and once Jaime went home and was no longer officially his patient, the spark between them became undeniable. Michael had transferred all of his research to the LA complex and began spending every available moment with Jaime. He visited several times a day, bringing a flower each time and keeping the bouquet on her living room table full and fresh with the frequency of the gifts. Jaime was enchanted.

Michael's every word and every move had been so smooth and attentive. When they finally made love for the first time, it was like nothing Jaime had ever experienced. (Doctors, after all, know precisely how everything works.) Once they had married, though, Michael's quiet confidence had begun to seem more like sullen brooding. He could be patronizing, superior and...distant. Hoping to please him, Jaime had quickly agreed when he suggested the move to DC, not realizing his intent was to isolate her using her fear of things she didn't quite understand about her bionics.

Now...Jaime understood. The sheer horror of what he'd threatened to do, his willingness to destroy others' happiness through his own bitter anger, left her speechless. Slowly, she rose from her chair, walked numbly down the hall and climbed into bed.

Michael followed just a few minutes later. His mood seemed to have done a complete 180, as his eyes had softened and his voice was quiet and soothing. "Peace offering...?" he said, offering Jaime a glass of orange juice. "You didn't eat much breakfast."

Jaime eyed him suspiciously. "I wasn't very hungry."

"I'm so sorry, Love. I acted like a jerk," he said humbly. "I just can't stand the thought of losing you. You mean everything to me, even though I know I don't say that often enough. I love you, Jaime. Please, let's talk. I really think we can work this out."

Jaime accepted the glass from his hand and took a small sip of juice. She'd squeezed it herself, the day before, and the emotion of the last 12 hours had left her drained...and thirsty.

"Want some more?" Michael offered, taking the empty glass from her fingers. "Or maybe some toast?"

"I'm really not hungry but...thank you." It almost seemed like the 'old Michael' had returned. For a few moments, Jaime dared to hope that maybe everything would be alright after all. Then she suddenly started to feel irresistibly sleepy.

Michael leaned in and tenderly kissed her forehead and then her lips as Jaime began to doze off. "I really do love you, you know," he whispered.

- - -

Rudy had spent the early morning hours trying to process what Jaime had told him. It simply didn't make sense. Michael _was_ researching possible ways to defend Jaime and Steve's bionics from the effects of intense cold, but it seemed he had lied to his wife. At the very least, he'd allowed her to become too frightened for her safety in the cold to even venture outside and neglected to give her all of the facts. At the worst, he had chosen to keep her in the dark – but why? Briefly, Rudy thought about getting Oscar involved, but decided there had to be more to the story and that he'd need to hear what Michael had to say before choosing what (if anything) needed to be done.

Rudy looked at the clock. His young associate was a bit late this morning, but since he was concentrating on research and not seeing patients, it didn't really matter.

- - - - -


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

"How's Jaime this morning?" Rudy asked casually when Michael finally showed up at the lab.

The younger doctor breezed past his mentor and poured a cup of coffee. "She was still asleep when I left," he answered truthfully.

"I haven't seen much of her lately; how's she been feeling?" Rudy probed. "Is everything alright?"

"She's fine. Got up and had a little breakfast then went back to bed. I don't think she slept well last night." Michael began heading back to his research area but Rudy stayed right behind him.

"Maybe we should move her six-month physical up a few weeks," he proposed carefully. "Get her in here and just...make sure."

Michael shook his head and began fiddling with the instruments on the table in front of him. "I don't think that's necessary. She's in perfect health."

_She didn't look so perfect a few hours ago,_ Rudy wanted to say, but he held his tongue. "How's she been adapting to a real Winter?" he asked instead.

Michael shrugged. "Hasn't had any problems." He picked up a pen and began making notes, clearly ending the conversation.

- - -

Michael's words to Rudy weren't entirely true. Jaime was beginning to wake up and the realization hit her immediately – she had a _serious_ problem. She sat up slowly, feeling a bit groggy from her mid-morning 'nap'. In her mind, she swung her legs effortlessly over the side of the bed but in reality _they didn't move_.

"Michael?" she called out, hoping he hadn't left for the lab yet. There was no answer and as fright cleared the fog from her head, a terrible realization took her breath away. _The orange juice...oh no....what did he do to me....?_

- - -

"I've been spending too much time here lately," Michael announced a few hours later. "I think I'll take the afternoon off and spend some time with my wife."

"Sounds like a good idea," Rudy agreed.

"Yeah. I'll pick up some flowers and maybe a few other surprises...."

- - -

Jaime rolled over to Michael's side of the bed and reached for the phone that sat on his bedside table...but it was gone. She tried to brace herself up, to roll off the bed and perhaps crawl to a phone, and discovered her legs weren't the only problem. Her right arm didn't move, either. Michael had somehow disabled her bionics! After a quick self-inventory to ensure he hadn't harmed her in any other way, Jaime began searching for a way out of her predicament. She was still struggling (and cursing her own stupidity) when she heard the front door open and close.

"Hi, Love," Michael said sweetly, smiling at her as he walked toward the bed. He carried a vase filled with a huge bouquet of red roses, which he placed on the bedside table, just out of her reach.

"What'd you do to me, Michael?" Jaime demanded through clenched teeth.

"We needed to talk," he told her. "And we can't very well do that if you take off on me, can we?" He reached over to caress Jaime's face, then kissed her softly. His touch made her cringe. "Now, that's what I'm talking about, Jaime. You seem to have this idea that I'm trying to hurt you – and you couldn't be more wrong. I love you, and I'm only trying to keep you safe. And to do what's best for you, and for our marriage."

"We have no marriage!" Jaime snapped. "Just how long do you think you can keep me here – by _force_ – before somebody notices?"

"Who's going to notice? After that little incident yesterday, I'm sure Steve will be keeping a proper distance. And I just convinced Rudy that your health has never been better. So to answer your question – long enough to make you see reason."

- - - - -


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Jaime shuddered. Her heart was hammering with panic, but she was determined not to let Michael see that. In as calm a voice as she could manage, she tried to reason with him. "You're right, we _do_ need to talk. But...not like this. Wouldn't you rather know that I'm sitting here and talking with you because I want to – and not because I'm being forced? Do you really want a prisoner, Michael...or a wife?"

"The first time I ever saw you, you were on the operating table," Michael mused in a dreamy, far-away voice. "They'd all given up on you – drawn the sheet over your head – except for me. The minute you took that first new breath and came back to life right in front of me...I fell in love."

"Michael, I -"

"I've never been in love before – did I ever tell you that? There was always a textbook to read or a paper to write....then more patients than anyone should see in a day. Every day. I didn't really see 'love' as a word in my vocabulary – until suddenly there you were. You're the only part of my life that has _ever_ been about something other than medicine and research. I don't want to lose you. I _can't_ lose you!"

In spite of her predicament, Jaime was touched by more of a torrent of emotion than she'd ever heard from her husband. She stayed very still (not that she had much of a choice) and let him keep talking.

"I'd always thought I'd be like Rudy – too devoted to my work to think about anything else – even convinced myself that I liked it that way. But then I met you...and everything changed. If I lied to you, Love, it was because I was so afraid of something happening to you. If you were here at home, I could know you were safe. I just don't want anything to happen to you."

"But...something did happen, Michael," Jaime said softly. "Look at what you're doing. You don't want me to be hurt, but...you're holding me prisoner. This isn't the way to get what you want..."

"Maybe it is," he countered. "You were angry when I came in, and you're not angry now. It's working, just like I knew it would. Finally, you know just how much I love you. Now, I think I need to prove it to you. I know exactly what you like...."

- - -

In spite of Michael's assurances, Rudy couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. He tried calling the house, hoping to reach Jaime before Michael got home, but there was no answer. Hating himself for snooping (but knowing he'd hate himself more if he allowed something disastrous to happen), Rudy opened Michael's research files and began to read.

True to his word, Michael had been researching possible methods of heat retention for bionic limbs...but there was something more, and Rudy felt faint as he read what his young colleague had really been working on.

_...factoring in the conductivity of the components themselves, a shock of the specified voltage applied as charted should effectively disable all bionic systems without necessitating surgery or other more invasive procedures..._

- - -

"You're a million miles away today," Jenn noted, nuzzling Steve's neck.

"I'm sorry," he answered, pulling her onto his lap for a long, deep kiss. "I'm back now."

"Mmm...what a nice homecoming..." she giggled, melting into him. "Gonna tell me where your mind went, on that little vacation?" she teased.

"I'd rather do this," he said, pulling her closer. She was so good to him and _for_ him. Jaime was right – all he and Jenn needed was time. When the phone rang, they both ignored it...but it didn't stop. It kept on chiming, urgently and insistently, demanding attention. Annoyed, Steve scooped up the receiver. "Not home," he mumbled. "Leave a message. Beep."

"Steve?" The tone of Rudy's voice snapped Steve straight out of his languid mood. "I need your help. Jaime's in a lot of trouble...."

- - - - -


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

"Don't touch me," Jaime pleaded, trying to roll away from the man who looked like her husband but had turned into someone alien and frightening.

"Now, what kind of attitude is that?" Michael asked smoothly, stretching out beside her on the bed. He propped his head up with one elbow and grinned at Jaime. He reached over and ran one finger down the side of her face, lingering at her collarbone, taunting her.

"Please, Michael..."

"Begging for it, huh? I like that. Maybe I'll -" His thought was interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell. "They'll go away," he said, kissing her.

The ring turned to an insistent pounding on the door, and Rudy's voice shouted "Michael – open up!"

"Dammit!" Michael snapped. "What does he want? Oh well...he'll give up eventually." Jaime tried to squirm away from him as he leaned over her again, but she was trapped. The pounding at the door grew louder.

"Jaime?" Rudy called. "Are you in there?"

Michael clamped a hand over his wife's mouth. "Don't you make a sound," he cautioned.

"Open the door, Michael!" Rudy demanded.

"Everything's fine, Rudy!" Michael yelled back. "Just go away."

"Alright, will you talk to me on the phone?" Rudy shouted. He returned to his car and dialed the number on his car phone.

Michael reached under the bed where he'd hidden the telephone and plugged it back into the wall. Immediately, it began to ring. With one hand still tightly gripping Jaime's chin and pinning her mouth shut, he picked up the receiver. Jaime listened intently, grateful that at least her ear still worked.

"Take whoever you brought with you and get out of here," Michael said with quiet anger.

"I can't do that, Michael," Rudy replied, "until I know Jaime is safe."

"She's fine. We're both fine, okay?"

"I need you to put her on the phone," Rudy insisted.

Michael buried the receiver in the pillow and whispered so that only Jaime could hear him. "Tell him you're alright and then get the hell off the phone," he ordered. "You don't want this to get any uglier." He put the receiver to Jaime's face and glared threateningly at her. The hand that had been clamped over her mouth moved ominously to her throat.

"Rudy?" she began, trying to keep her voice steady but failing miserably.

"Honey, are you alright? Has he hurt you?"

"No....I – I'm okay..."

Michael tore the phone away from her. "Are you happy now?" he snarled at Rudy.

"I need you to come to the door, Michael," Rudy said evenly. "The police are on their way."

"Call them off!"

"It's too late. Just come to the door and let's end this before anyone gets hurt," Rudy pleaded.

"Forget it. If I see one cop – or even hear one siren – I swear....I'll kill her."

Jaime tried to squirm out of his grasp, but he held her with a painfully tight grip. She swung her left arm up and managed to hit him on the side of his head. Growling with anger, he slapped her full-on in the face, pinned her one good arm to the mattress and drew his hand back into a fist, preparing to strike another blow. Jaime turned her head and Michael's fist slammed into the headboard, barely missing her. As she continued to move in any way she could manage, trying to duck from his enraged assault, she heard footsteps outside the house...and then a whispered voice. It was Steve.

"Jaime, if you can hear me, turn away from the window. Bury your face in the pillow if you can. I'm coming in."

Another furious blow from Michael's fist grazed her forehead as Jaime flailed and rolled, burying her face the best she could. Suddenly, the window glass shattered – with shards flying over the bed. Michael yelled in pain and before he could react further Steve sailed through the window, pulled him off of Jaime and threw him roughly to the floor.

Steve picked up the dangling phone receiver, where Rudy waited on the other end. "C'mon in," he told the doctor. "Jaime needs your help." Steve looked down to where Michael was lying amidst all of the broken glass and the sharp chunks of wooden window frame. "I don't give a damn what you do about _him_."

- - - - -


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Once they arrived at the hospital, while Rudy was tending to Jaime, Steve took the time to call his wife. "I'm up at Bethesda," he began.

"The _hospital_? What happened? Are you hurt?" Jenn asked anxiously.

"No, I'm fine. Couple little cuts on my arm – nothing serious. It...it's Jaime. We don't know what happened yet, but it looks like her husband went crazy. He hurt her pretty badly. I'm still waiting to find out how she is. I'm not sure when I'll be home, but -"

"You take your time," Jenn insisted. "If her husband did this, she'll need a friend close by."

"Thank you, Darlin'." Steve sighed with relief. "I love you."

"Love you, too – and keep me posted, okay?"

"I will."

Oscar, who had just flown back from a conference in New York when he got word of what had happened, found Steve just as he was saying goodbye to his wife. The two men looked at each other, shook their heads sadly and sat down to wait.

"Any word on Michael?" Steve asked, breaking the long, anxious silence.

"As we speak, he's being escorted under heavy guard from the ER at National to a private government-run psychiatric facility in Maryland. The _locked_ ward."

"Good. I hope whoever locks him in loses the key," Steve muttered. "I mean, if you would've seen Jaime..." Steve cringed at the memory. "Broke my heart, seeing her like that -"

Both men stood as Rudy joined them. "Is she...okay?" Steve queried nervously.

Rudy's face was grim. "Jaime's been through a severe trauma," he explained. "First, to find out the one person she loved and trusted most in the world was lying to her, and then...this. Michael administered a dangerously high jolt of electricity to the conductors that lead to Jaime's power packs. His intent was to temporarily disable her, but he fried them completely. If we hadn't gotten to her when we did..."

"But you can fix it?" Steve asked quickly. "Will she be alright?"

"I'll have to replace the power packs, but not until her system has had a chance to settle. In the meantime, I was able to rig a very slight temporary charge to the burned-out cells that will keep her alive until we can operate. I'd say in about 24 hours."

"So....she's paralyzed?" Steve stated.

"For now, yes. Hopefully, the current did no damage to her biological nerves. We'll know more after the surgery. Then we can start healing her emotional wounds – or at least try to."

"Is she in pain?" Oscar wondered.

"No; I've taken care of that. She's resting."

"Can I see her?" Steve requested. "I just want to sit with her for a little while. I won't disturb her."

Rudy nodded. "I'll take you down there." He turned to Oscar. "I'll be right back."

When he walked into Jaime's room, Steve had to stop and catch his breath before approaching the bed. Even though he'd witnessed the worst of the incident, her appearance shocked him. The bruises on her face had deepened in color, looking angry and painful. There was more bruising to her left arm and peeking out the top of her hospital gown at the shoulder. She seemed to be sleeping peacefully at first, but very soon began to moan softly, flailing about in her sleep – but only her upper body and left arm were moving.

"Michael...." she whispered. Steve didn't know if he should wake her, so he pressed Rudy's call button. "Michael...." she repeated, more urgently this time. "No....." Before Rudy could get there, Jaime's eyes snapped wide open and darted around the room, panic-stricken. "Michael!"

"Jaime," Steve began softly, not wanting to frighten her further, "it's me. I'm here...and you're safe now."

"Where's Michael?" she pleaded, just as Rudy reached her side.

"He's being taken care of, Honey," Rudy assured her. "Now let's take care of _you_, okay?"

"I need to see Michael..."

"There's no way that creep will _ever_ put his hands on you again," Steve promised.

"Gotta see him...he...didn't know what he was doing....please..."

"We'll talk about that later, Honey," Rudy told her gently. "You need to rest now."

"But....he's my _husband_..."

- - - - -


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

The next 24 hours seemed to pass excruciatingly slowly for Jaime. Rudy kept her well-medicated so she didn't feel the pain, but it was maddening to lie in one position - a prisoner in her own body. There was very little she could do but think.

Her friends did their best to keep her occupied and entertained. Callahan stopped in with donuts and cocoa and to watch an hour of morning cartoons. It felt good to just be silly and have fun. Steve and Jenn came by after lunch with a Monopoly set and, after propping Jaime up comfortably with extra pillows, Steve proceeded to give both women a profound lesson in how to lose gracefully when you land on multiple hotels and railroads.

Oscar stopped by with flowers, just before Rudy came to get Jaime ready for surgery. "Any news about Michael?" she asked both men.

Oscar and Rudy exchanged worried glances. "Honey," Rudy told her, "he's being taken care of. He's in good hands - I'm sure we'll hear something soon."

"And you'll tell me - no matter what it is?"

"I promise." Oscar helped Rudy ease Jaime onto the gurney and then he headed down to Rudy's office to wait while the doctor wheeled his patient into the operating room.

It was a long wait. Oscar had polished off a full pot of coffee and begun to pace before Rudy - exhausted and looking seriously unhappy - finally rejoined him. "It's not good news," the doctor replied to the unasked question. "So far, there's been no spontaneous movement in Jaime's limbs. It's still early; the connections may simply be reacting more slowly than I'd hoped."

"When will you know for sure?" Oscar queried.

"The next 24 to 48 hours. The biggest test will be when Jaime wakes up, but the return of movement may be gradual." _If it returns...._ he added to himself.

- - -

"I'm worried about her," Jenn told her husband over dinner.

"About Jaime? Rudy said she should hopefully be better soon," Steve answered.

"Physically, maybe," Jenn allowed. "It's the scars we can't see that I'm worried about. Michael's her husband and this seems like it came out of the clear blue sky. Once the shock wears off, confusion and pain will set in. I know...I've been there."

"You've been married before?"

"No," Jenn told him quietly. "He was my first serious boyfriend...until he almost killed me. It took a long time to get over it and to be able to trust again. She's going to have some important life-changing decisions to make before she's truly strong enough. I think I can help her, if she'll let me."

Steve smiled and reached for her hand. "Have I told you how much I love you?"

"Not in the last five minutes."

"I am constantly amazed by how much I love you, Mrs. Austin."

- - -

After her surgery, Jaime slept straight through until the next morning. Rudy had stayed by her side for most of the night, dozing only briefly in the chair beside his patient's bed. Finally, just after sunrise, she opened her eyes.

"Good morning!" he said brightly. "How's my favorite patient?"

"You have more than one patient, Doctor Wells?" Jaime asked with a chuckle. "How soon can I start moving around again?"

"How about right now? Let's try something simple first. Can you wiggle your fingers for me?" Jaime stared intently at her right hand, as though trying to move it through sheer force of will. Her fingers danced just a bit on top of the blanket, then were still. "That's very good," Rudy told her. "Now let's try your toes. Either foot – or both – your choice."

"I'll do both," Jaime announced. "Why not go for broke?" She couldn't prop herself up to watch what was happening on the other end of the bed, so she looked hopefully at Rudy.

There was no movement.

- - - - -


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

By the end of the second day after her surgery, Jaime's arm was strong enough to allow her to pull herself upright in bed – so she could stare at her legs and curse them for their utter non-cooperation. This was how Jenn found her: ignoring the dinner tray at her bedside and scowling furiously at her feet.

"Hi, Jaime," Jenn said cautiously from the door. "Is it okay if I come in?"

"Of course," Jaime told her (wondering if Steve had stopped to talk to Rudy).

"I left Steve at home," Jenn explained, "because I hoped you and I could talk."

Jaime didn't know her visitor very well, but they'd spent some time together at Elgin family gatherings – and at the wedding, of course. Now that they were 'practically sister-in-laws' maybe it was a good time to get to know each other better. Besides, Jaime was craving company. "C'mon and sit down," she invited, smiling.

Jenn could see that the smile made Jaime flinch almost imperceptibly in pain. Most people probably wouldn't have noticed, but Jenn was alert for exactly that sort of sign. "Lot of men hanging around here," she noted, "and not much female companionship, huh? Jaime...is there anything you need that you might not want to ask them about?"

"Not really, but...thank you."

Jenn took a deep breath. She knew she'd be treading dangerous ground, emotionally speaking. "I'm so sorry about what happened to you. I know it must've been terrifying." Jaime nodded mutely, so Jenn kept going. "It's even worse when you don't have anyone to talk to." Another deep breath, then she dove in. "See, I know because...I went through it."

Jaime's jaw dropped and her eyes blazed with anger. "_Steve hit you?_ I'll kill him!"

"Oh, Lord – no. It was...my first boyfriend, when I was in college. We were together a long time...more than two years."

"I've been married to Michael for two years," Jaime noted, empathizing.

"Yes – I know. Gregg was so sweet at first, so loving and gentle. I'm betting Michael was, too. And then gradually, he started isolating me, keeping me away from my friends and family....all to himself." Jenn noticed the flicker of recognition in Jaime's eyes and knew she was hitting a bulls-eye. "It happened so slowly that I didn't even notice....but I was so alone. And he didn't want to talk to me anymore, either. He just sat in his chair thinking those deep thoughts of his like I wasn't even there."

"What happened?" Jaime asked quietly.

"One day, he just lost it. It was a stupid fight, really; I don't even remember how it started. All of a sudden, he pushed me down...and when I got up to argue some more....he hit me. Hard."

"I'm...so sorry..." Jaime whispered.

"When I woke up, he was so sorry. He said and did all the right things – it was like having the old Gregg back. So I stayed. A few weeks later....he lost it big-time and tried to strangle me. Nearly did, too."

Jaime was stunned. "I had...no idea..."

"Steve didn't even know, until I told him the day you had surgery. The reason I'm telling you now is because I don't want you to make the same mistake I did. Michael _will_ contact you, and he'll say all the right things, but don't fall for it, Jaime – please. Once a man becomes a batterer, once they've crossed that line, it's so much easier for them to cross it again."

"Whoa – wait a minute!" Jaime protested. "Michael's _not_ a batterer! He just...."

"Lost his head?" Jenn retorted. "Wasn't feeling well? Needs a little counseling and it'll all go away? Don't buy it, Jaime. Your _life_ is at stake here. You can either give it back to Michael to do whatever he pleases with it....or claim it as your own, once and for all. I didn't come here to try and preach to you or tell you what you _have_ to do, but I want to help you....and I'd like to be your friend."

Jaime nodded and smiled wanly at Jenn, who reached over and patted her hand before standing up to leave. "I know that's a lot to think about. I'll stop by tomorrow, if that's okay."

"Thank you," Jaime said softly. She sat quietly for a few minutes after Jenn had gone, then pressed Rudy's call button. "I need to see Michael," she told him in a firm, clear voice.

- - - - -


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Rudy was able to put Jaime's request off for several days by telling her she needed more time to recover first. The truth was, he _had_ seen Michael....and Jaime simply wasn't ready. The young former doctor was still in a locked-down isolation room where he spent most of his day staring blankly at the walls. He hadn't seemed to notice when the door opened and his mentor walked quietly into the room.

"Hello, Michael," Rudy said in as neutral a voice as he could manage. There was no response. "I know you can hear me," Rudy persisted, "because they tell me you've been picking at your meals and fighting every time they sedate you. You are _not_ catatonic." Still, the younger man was silent. "They did tell me you haven't spoken since you got here, but I have my own opinion about that."

Rudy walked over to stand between Michael and the wall that he apparently found so fascinating. "Your _wife_ is still in the hospital. Your calculations were correct but you chose the wrong voltage, Michael. You fried her power packs. Are you listening?" He bent down until he was right in Michael's face. "Jaime nearly _died_. And it looks like you may have damaged the nerve connections, too, because she's still not able to move her legs. Does that make you happy? She _can't walk_!" Rudy had to take a few steps backward, fighting off the urge to punch the eerily quiet person in front of him.

"What you did....it's _unforgivable_. I hope you rot in here!" His words and his anger spent, Rudy knocked on the door so the guard could let him out. As the door was about to close behind him, four whispered words followed him out of the cell.

"Take...care...of her..."

- - -

Rudy didn't have the heart to tell Jaime about his visit to Maryland, and reasoned with himself that he wasn't really breaking his promise to keep her informed because nothing new had come out of it. Jaime was spending far too many of her waking moments trying to force her legs – or even her toes – to _do something_, but without success. Rudy tried not to let her see it, but he was growing very worried...and so were Jaime's friends. Two days after his trip to Maryland, Rudy had headed over to OSI Headquarters, meeting Oscar and Steve in Oscar's office where there was no risk that Jaime would overhear them.

"There's been no progress at all?" Oscar asked after Rudy had told them the basics.

"Well, her arm is much better," Rudy explained. "She's past normal strength and working her way up. But as for her legs...nothing. There's a good chance we're looking at damage to her biological nerve connections, caused by the trauma of the electrical shock."

"Is it permanent?" Steve asked.

"I don't know. If the connections _were_ damaged, they're likely beyond repair, but if we're lucky new connections may form within the surrounding nerve tissue. I've got a top neurologist flying in tonight to see if he thinks we might be able to help the process along surgically. If not..."

"Then Jaime might not walk again," Steve concluded.

"It may be a very long time....if ever."

The three men stood in grim silence, considering the awful possibilities. "I heard from Jack Hansen today," Oscar announced. "They may not be able to charge Michael with a crime -"

Steve nearly put his fist through the desk. "How can they _not_ charge him?"

"They can't determine if he's fit to stand trial – or even if he understands what he's done," Oscar explained.

"He's lucky I didn't....never mind," Rudy snapped. Suddenly, he had an idea. "Jaime's been asking me every day – multiple times a day – when she can see Michael. Maybe she _should_ see him -"

"Absolutely not!" Steve protested.

"Under extremely controlled circumstances," Rudy finished. "Remind Michael not only of what he's done – but who he's done it to. It might be the fastest way to bring him to justice."

- - - - -


	14. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

Jaime was feeling discouraged – and a bit sullen. When Rudy returned from his meeting with Oscar and Steve, the first thing he did was look in on her. She had tossed the blanket to the floor and was staring at her legs. "Maybe you could make me some new ones?" she proposed, without looking up. "This pair is ready for the scrap heap."

Rudy sat down next to the bed and readjusted the blanket over his patient. "It isn't your legs that are the problem, Honey," he reminded her gently. "It's the nerve endings they're attached to."

"Yeah, well, toss them on the scrap heap, too."

"The nurses tell me you skipped your lunch today," Rudy persisted.

"Guess I wasn't hungry. When can I see Michael?" Jaime asked (already beginning to pout at the anticipated answer).

"How about the day after tomorrow?"

"Really?" Jaime's mood immediately brightened....but then she grew very pale. "Does he....know I'm coming?"

"No. Do you want us to tell him?"

"Yes. No. I – I don't know." Jaime fell back on the pillow and Rudy could see that she'd begun to tremble.

"Honey, no one is forcing this. If you don't want to see him -"

"But I do! I just...have some thinking to do first."

- - -

Jenn (alerted by Steve about Jaime's impending visit to Michael) tried to smile as she walked into the room. "You still aren't eating?" she stated, eying Jaime's untouched meat loaf and mashed potatoes from dinner.

"There's a brick in my stomach," Jaime told her.

"I guess so. Steve told me what's going on – are you alright?"

"I think so....I'm...not sure," she admitted.

"You don't have to do this, you know. You don't owe that monster anything -"

"That 'monster' is my husband!"

"Jaime -"

Jaime's eyes brimmed with tears. "If I turn my back on him, who does he have left?"

"He nearly _killed_ you!"

"Maybe he can be helped," Jaime said almost pleadingly. "Maybe even cured..."

"And maybe we'll have 90-degree heat tomorrow to melt away all the snow, too," Jenn snapped. "Look, I know how confused you're feeling right now – but you need to get things straight in your own head before you go to see him. Otherwise, he'll just walk all over you. Maybe you need a little more time."

"He _needs_ me!"

Jenn shook her head. _He needs a good swift kick in his nether regions,_ she thought to herself.

- - -

Finally, it was time. Steve lifted Jaime into her new wheelchair (one which they all prayed was only temporary) and he and Jenn joined Rudy and Jaime in the van that took them to Maryland.

The hospital was nothing like what Jaime had pictured. For one thing, it looked more like a private home – albeit a large Medieval one - surrounded by a tall, imposing fence. The guards were expecting them and with a flash of the driver's security badge they were admitted to the grounds. Jaime shivered in the well-heated van.

"Are you _sure_ about this?" Rudy asked one last time.

"No. But let's do it," she responded.

Steve and Jenn waited in the small lounge just down the hall from Michael's room and Rudy slowly wheeled her to the door. He placed a reassuring hand on Jaime's shoulder as the guard worked the locks to allow them inside. Michael sat facing the window and didn't react to the sound of the opening door or the re-clanking of the locks that left the three of them alone together. Rudy wheeled Jaime's chair a little bit closer but still out of harm's way and then stepped toward the window, facing Michael. "I brought someone to see you," he announced.

Jaime's voice, when she finally found it, was tentative and unsure. "Michael....?"

- - - - -


	15. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

Jaime could see Michael's shoulders (his entire body, really) stiffen in the chair. "Is that...you?" he whispered.

"Turn around and find out," Jaime said softly. She white-knuckled the arms of the wheelchair as she waited for his response. How would it feel to actually _see_ him again, to look into his eyes? Michael didn't move. "Look at me, Michael," Jaime requested.

"I...can't..."

Rudy wasn't about to allow his former assistant to cop out. He gripped Michael firmly by the shoulders and turned him around, forcing him to face his wife. Michael slumped visibly and after a brief, uncomfortable look at Jaime, he stared at the floor.

"What did I do to deserve this?" Jaime asked in a thin but clear voice. "Michael? What did I do...except love you?"

"Don't you think she's entitled to an answer?" Rudy demanded.

"Can I...talk to her...alone...?" Michael managed to choke out.

"Not in this lifetime," Rudy told him.

In spite of Rudy's firm instruction to stay out of Michael's reach, Jaime wheeled herself closer until she was knee-to-knee with her husband. "Are you proud of yourself? I believed everything you told me – all of the lies – and the biggest one was when you said you loved me!"

Michael glanced up quickly and then lowered his head, unwilling to meet her steady, unwavering gaze and unable to bear seeing the angry, pain-filled tears in her eyes. "I do....love you."

"No! No, you don't. You couldn't possibly do what you did – not if you loved me!"

"I'm...sorry, Love....I didn't mean -"

"You didn't mean _what?_" Jaime answered bitterly. "You didn't mean to put me in a wheelchair? You didn't mean for me to be afraid of my own husband? Or maybe..." Forcefully, she wiped a tear from her eye. "Maybe what you didn't mean was for me to _survive!_ Was that it, Michael? You couldn't have the obedient little Stepford Wife you always wanted, so let's dispose of the one you did have?"

"No, you....you don't...understand..."

"Then explain it to me – _make_ me understand! Dammit, Michael - why would you do this?" Jaime began to sob quietly and this seemed to get Michael's attention. Finally he met her gaze, his own eyes filled with pain and confusion.

"I – I didn't want...to lose you. And...I just wanted to _talk_ to you...I had to make you stay...so you would listen..."

"You thought that would make me listen? Drugging me and _hurting_ me?" Jaime shook her head. "That isn't love, Michael. What you did...it was attempted _murder_!"

"No...you – you're not listening again. Why won't you _ever_ listen to me?" Swiftly, his hand shot up and grasped Jaime by her chin, squeezing her still-bruised cheek. "Just _listen to me_!"

Rudy dove forward to pull him off, but Jaime was faster. She reached up with her right hand, as if to take his hand with her own, then bent his fingers back, slowly releasing his grip on her face and causing several small bones to crack. "Thank you," Jaime said through her tears as she let his broken hand fall onto his lap. "You just answered every question I had."

Rudy knocked on the door, correctly gauging that the conversation was over. As he wheeled Jaime down the hall, Steve and Jenn heard her soft, muffled sobs and jumped to their feet, rushing to embrace her. Steve spotted the fresh finger-marks on her face – and his hands balled into fists. "Just give me thirty seconds in there," he told Rudy. "That's all I'll need."

Jaime reached up and gently grabbed his arm. "I'm...alright," she announced to the whole group. "I'm finally alright."

Rudy nodded and as they headed back to the van he patted his pocket (which held a small tape recorder that even Jaime didn't know he had). Michael had given them _both_ everything they needed.

- - - - -


	16. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

The trip to Maryland was a turning point in many different lives. The most dramatic changes were for both Marchettis. Jaime pushed harder than ever to get movement back into her legs and a sense of normalcy to her life. Michael, instead of remaining cloaked in near-catatonic silence, became wildly angry, demanding a lawyer and some private time alone with his wife. For the time being, he got neither.

Steve and Jenn spent most evenings visiting with Jaime, keeping her company and buoying her spirits. And although the consultation with the neurologist had been disappointing (surgery would be of no use in Jaime's case), Rudy set about devising a therapy routine that would hopefully cause Jaime's nerve endings to find new connections on their own. She cooperated willingly and whole-heartedly but for several days there were no results.

One morning, Rudy had just arrived at the hospital and barely put on his lab coat when he heard Jaime calling to him from her room all the way down the hall. In her excitement, she was shouting his name instead of pushing the call button. Fearing the worst, he hurried to her bedside.

Jaime was beaming. "Look!" she exclaimed triumphantly. "My toes!" Indeed, her toes were waving hello to her dedicated friend and doctor.

"Jaime, that's wonderful!" Rudy agreed, breaking protocol and giving his patient a joy-filled hug for her efforts. After breakfast, they worked together until Jaime was bending her knees and rotating her ankles as well. By lunchtime, she was stubbornly insisting on getting out of bed. Although Rudy worried that it was too soon and dreaded the thought of her becoming discouraged, he held her gently around the waist as she took her first few steps and plopped down in the chair by the window, smiling beatifically.

"I did it – I mean, we did it!" she exulted.

"_You_ did it, Honey....and I'm so proud of you."

That evening, Jaime surprised Jenn and Steve by rising from her bed and taking a few tentative steps toward them to give them each a hug. They were jubilant. It seemed that everything was falling into place.

- - -

The next evening, Callahan dropped in to see Jaime after work, bearing a box of Jaime's favorite donuts. Surprisingly, Jaime wasn't in her room. The wheelchair sat unused beside the bed and although Peggy waited for nearly half an hour, there was no sign of her friend. She wrote a quick, brief note and stuck it into the donut box, leaving the whole package on the bed. She turned around to see Jenn Austin eying her curiously.

"Steve's not here?" Jenn asked.

Callahan shrugged. "I don't even know where Jaime is."

Jenn frowned. "I was supposed to meet him here an hour ago but I had...some errands that took longer than I thought."

"Maybe Jaime went somewhere with him?" Callahan suggested. She blushed, realizing how that might've sounded to Steve's still-new wife. "I mean...um.."

"Don't worry," Jenn said, laughing. "I trust my husband...and my friend. If they went anywhere, it was probably to grab a bite to eat."

"You wanna get a cup of coffee or something?" Peggy asked. "Since neither or us have much to do right now?"

"Sounds like a plan." They headed into the parking lot, nearly bumping into Rudy who was rushing headlong from his car toward the building, muttering something about 'that damn car of mine' as he disappeared through the entrance.

"Must be a full moon tonight," Jenn giggled.

- - -

Jaime was in her bed by the time Rudy threw on his lab coat, checked her chart and downed a fast cup of coffee. He couldn't help noticing that she was pale and trembling just a little bit.

"I'm...really tired," she sighed when he questioned her sudden change in condition. "I have to confess...I...got a little over-eager tonight."

"Oh?" Rudy noted that her vital signs were all just slightly askew. Respiration was too fast and her pulse was racing. Had she over-exerted herself? "What happened?" he asked gently.

"I..." Jaime hesitated before her admission. "I decided to get some fresh air."

"You went outside? By yourself?" Rudy was stunned. "Please tell me you at least went out in your chair."

"Um...no. But...I think I did okay."

Rudy shook his head and did a little more mumbling to himself as he tended to his errant patient.

- - -

The next morning brought a visitor before Jaime's breakfast tray was delivered. Oscar poked his head into Rudy's office first. "Get the Austins down here," he requested in a firm, no-nonsense tone. "Wake them up if you have to." He paced the hallway in a swift, grim fashion until Steve and Jenn arrived, then paraded them (along with Rudy) down to Jaime's room.

"I'm afraid I have some bad news," he said without preamble. He looked sadly at Jaime, then scanned the group with dark eyes before continuing. "The guards sedated Michael last night, just after dinner. This morning, when they went in to check on him....he was dead. The initial report is that this appears to be a murder."

- - - - -


	17. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

Oscar's gaze once again fell on each person in the room, one at a time. "Frank Trudeau from the FBI, Jack Hansen and myself will be meeting with each of you, one at a time, for an initial statement." He looked regretfully at Jaime. "I'm afraid that includes you."

"Oh, come on, Oscar!" Steve protested. "She can barely walk!"

"I didn't realize she could walk at all," Oscar answered. "In the meantime, Russ will see that you're all separated into individual rooms – we don't need discussion of any kind until all the statements have been given."

Rudy glared stonily at Oscar. "Would it be alright if I check my patient's condition first?"

"Of course. I need everyone else to follow Russ now – he's waiting in the hall – and I'll stay here while you're with Jaime."

Rudy scowled and began tending to his patient. "Any pain this morning?" he asked, trying to ignore the fact that this exam was not private.

"I'm...okay," Jaime asserted with tears in her eyes. "I just can't believe...he's really gone...."

Rudy noted that her bruises – even the deepest ones – had almost completely faded. As he finished taking her pulse, his eyes fell on her left hand. There were several scratches along one side...and the knuckles appeared freshly bruised. As casually as he could manage, he pulled Jaime's blanket up – under the pretense of covering her more comfortably – and tucked the hand out of sight. He didn't think Oscar had noticed, although they would surely see it when she was being questioned.

"Are you done here?" Oscar asked, in a much colder tone than he usually used with his friends. "Rudy, I'll need you to wait in your office."

"I'd rather stay here with my patient. She just lost her husband!"

"We'll talk to you first, then," Oscar told Rudy – it was as much of a concession as he could allow, under the circumstances. "Jaime, when we're ready for you, the three of us will come down here to speak with you."

Jaime nodded and watched with wide eyes as her doctor was led away by the friend who was about to become their interrogator. Only when she was all alone did she finally allow herself to truly cry.

- - -

The scrutiny Rudy felt from three pairs of eyes when he walked into the conference room would have made the strongest man cringe. He held his head up and met their gazes one-by-one. Introductions were not necessary, and polite nods sufficed in place of 'hello'.

"I have to say at the outset that forcing me to leave my patient when she's just been told she lost her husband is inhumane," Rudy stated firmly, taking a seat at the table.

"Not quite as inhumane as murder, now, is it, Doctor Wells?" Trudeau commented, frowning.

"Rudy, can you vouch for Jaime's whereabouts last night between 6pm and midnight?" Hansen probed.

"Midnight? Oscar said they found him this morning."

"Oscar gave you more information than he should have, in that case," Hansen snapped. "We're only concerned with that time span. Now, was Jaime Sommers here – and in her bed – during those six hours?"

"I believe so," he stated firmly.

"Doctor Wells," Trudeau said quickly, "do you believe it – or do you know it for a fact? Bear in mind that this _is_ an official proceeding."

"Even if she did leave her bed, she was physically incapable of getting all the way to Maryland -"

"So she did leave her bed – and her room?" Hansen deduced.

Rudy lowered his head. "Yes...but only briefly."

Jack Hansen nodded. "I'm glad you said that. It tells me that you're being truthful with us. You see, we have the security tapes from the hospital's entrance and rear exit. Jaime left from the rear exit – on foot – at approximately 5:30pm," he stated. He looked straight up at Rudy. "Which is exactly 10 minutes after you left through the entrance, Rudy."

Trudeau consulted his notes. "You were gone for more than two and a half hours, returning – well what do you know – just around the time Miss Sommers did. Care to tell us where you were, Doctor?"

"Of course," Rudy said without hesitation. "I went to Maryland. Alone."

- - - - -


	18. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

Trudeau's eyes narrowed into a squint. "What was the purpose of your trip to Maryland?" he demanded.

"I wanted to see Michael Marchetti," Rudy said simply.

"What was the purpose of your visit?" Hansen queried. "Did you plan to kill him?"

"Of course not! I wanted to make sure he understood the magnitude of what he'd done to Jaime – the physical and emotional torture he put her through – but I never made it that far. My car got a flat tire and I got stuck just over the border into Maryland."

"And you walked the rest of the way?" Hansen theorized.

"No. I waited with my car until help arrived. By then, it was getting late. I'd never intended to leave the hospital – and Jaime – for that long."

"Her condition is stable now," Trudeau put in. "Is it not?"

"It is, but as her doctor it is my job to stay on top of every nuance of her physical and emotional state. As her friend, I do so willingly."

"And as her friend," Trudeau interjected, "did you take revenge for the wrongs that were inflicted on her? _Did you kill Michael Marchetti?_"

"No. I did not. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to return to my patient – who has just been told she's a widow."

"We'll need to question her first," Hansen snapped.

"She's under _MY_ care – and I need to make sure your questions don't set her back. She's been through enough trauma as it is. She is still very fragile."

Oscar nodded. "I think we can let him observe," he suggested. "As long as he doesn't try to influence the proceeding."

"Fair enough," Trudeau grumbled. "Let's go."

- - -

Jaime's emotions had run from A to Z and back again while she was waiting for her 'turn'. She'd gone from stunned (when she first heard the news) to utterly bereft. Soon, her anger flared up, fiery and white-hot. Michael had caused so much misery in such a short time! Jaime was furious with herself, too, for not picking up any signs that things were headed down such a drastically _wrong_ path. As she puzzled over whether there had been anything she possibly could've done to prevent all of this...she grew numb. At least Michael couldn't hurt her – or anyone else – ever again. She no longer had to fear him...or fear what she might be capable of if face-to-face with his insanity.

Idly, she wondered if Hansen and the FBI man realized she could listen to every word they were saying, without even trying very hard. Really, it was more difficult to tune them out, but Jaime genuinely did try. The word **widow** hit her ear – and slammed directly into her soul. When the four men joined her several minutes later, she was staring at the ceiling and sobbing with her entire heart. She heard their footsteps coming into the room before she actually saw them, and turned her head to the far wall, furiously wiping the tears away before turning back around to face them.

"Guess it's my turn, huh?" she whispered, suddenly terrified of what the next few minutes might bring.

"Can I check my patient first?" Rudy pleaded quietly. The other three men nodded their assent. The doctor stood between Jaime and her interrogators and solemnly took her vital signs, casually tucking her left hand under the cover and out of their sight. His eyes met Jaime's, he saw the fear there...and his heart broke for her.

"I think that's enough," Trudeau said abruptly, signaling with a nod of his head for Rudy to take a seat on the other side of the room. "Now then, Miss Sommers -"

"_Mrs. Marchetti_," she reminded him.

"I wouldn't think you'd want any part of the man – or his name – after what he did to you," Trudeau said with a slight sneer. He leaned a little closer to the bed. "Maybe that's why you wanted him dead...?"

Jaime glared, no longer really caring what they might think of her. "Go to Hell," she suggested succinctly.

- - - - -


	19. Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

"Let's get one thing straight, _Mrs. Marchetti_," Trudeau growled. "You can cooperate with us here – or I can have you subpoenaed and hauled before a judge to be questioned as a hostile witness."

"Jaime," Oscar said softly, "when was the last time you saw Michael?"

"When Rudy, Steve and Jenn took me down there a few days ago."

Hansen frowned. "Last night, between 6 and midnight, were you in this room – and in this bed – the entire time?"

Jaime glanced over at Rudy, more afraid of his reaction than that of the others. "No," she admitted. "I wasn't." Seeing the look that passed between the three interrogators, she hastened to add "I couldn't stand just staring at these walls anymore. I needed some fresh air!"

"Did your doctor authorize this little field trip of yours?" Trudeau asked.

"He...didn't know...'til afterward," Jaime replied.

"So you admit you snuck out of your bed – and out of this hospital?" Hansen clarified.

"Yes. But you'd go crazy laying here every single day, too – looking at the same four walls and the same ugly ceiling tile -"

Trudeau jumped on this. "Just how 'crazy' did you go, Mrs. Marchetti? Crazy enough to kill?"

"I didn't kill my husband!"

"You call him your 'husband'," Trudeau hammered at her, "but you were planning to divorce him – weren't you? In fact, you've already consulted a lawyer!"

"...Yes...I did..."

"Marchetti deceived you – didn't he?"

"Yes..."

"He drugged you -"

"Y-yes..."

"And he almost killed you!" Trudeau finished with a verbal flourish. "Made you pretty damned angry, didn't he?"

In spite of her best efforts, Jaime's eyes flooded with tears. Rudy rose from his chair, staring daggers at the FBI man. "She's had more than enough!" he protested.

Trudeau ignored him. "How did you get to Maryland last night?" he demanded of Jaime. "Did you take a cab? Perhaps one of your fellow suspects gave you a ride -?"

"I didn't go to see Michael...and I didn't kill him!" Jaime cried.

"Come on now – let's be honest here. Who had more of a motive than you did? You admit to sneaking out of your hospital bed – against your doctor's wishes -"

"I went for a walk!"

"All the way to Maryland?"

"No!" Jaime beat her fists against the mattress in sheer frustration, and Trudeau's eyes were immediately drawn to what Rudy had hoped he wouldn't see. Wordlessly (but glaring accusingly at Jaime) he grabbed her left wrist and held her hand up for closer inspection.

"You bruised your knuckles quite badly for simply taking a walk," he stated.

"I went a little too far – got too tired – and I fell..."

"You 'went a little too far'....I'd say murdering your husband is more than a little too far – wouldn't you, Mrs. Marchetti?"

"Frank -" Oscar cautioned.

"Alright," Trudeau continued, only slightly less forcefully, "where did you go on your so-called walk – and is there anyone who can verify your whereabouts?"

"I went...down to the river. The snow had all melted and it was so nice outside and...I just wanted to be by the water...."

"And of course no one saw you there?"

"I...don't know."

Oscar looked sadly at Jaime as she struggled to defend herself. Her composure was nearly gone. "I think she's told us everything she can," he suggested quietly.

"For now." Trudeau scowled at Jaime. "We'll be back to see you again - very soon."

- - - - -


	20. Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

Rudy immediately rushed to Jaime's bedside, sweeping her into a tight, comforting hug. "I'm so sorry, Honey," he told her softly. "You shouldn't have had to go through that." As he eased her back onto her pillows, he couldn't help but wonder about her story. It simply didn't _quite_ add up. There were pieces missing – and if he noticed it, he was sure the other men had, as well. He couldn't undo it (as much as he wanted to) but Rudy was determined to help her in any way that he could.

"How did he..._die_?" Jaime managed in a very small voice.

"I don't know – they didn't tell us." He pulled a chair right up to the bed and tried to figure out the most gentle way to phrase what was on his mind. "Jaime, where were you when you fell?"

"By the river." Watching water flow, listening to the sounds it made as it tumbled over the rocks, had always calmed her and helped her to think more peacefully.

"Did you – ah – hit your head?" Upon seeing Jaime's questioning look, he continued. "The river isn't very far from here...and you were gone a long time...did you maybe knock yourself out? Possibly wander around a bit before you were entirely awake again?" Her clothes had been dry when Rudy had found in back in her bed, so at least she hadn't fallen into the freezing water.

"I don't know..." Jaime answered.

_That_ wasn't what Rudy had hoped to hear. "Tell me exactly what happened, Honey – what do you remember?"

"I was sitting on a bench. I really wasn't very tired – like you said, it wasn't very far – and then....I was sitting on the ground."

"So you fell off the bench?"

"I don't know! But...I must have...I guess...'cause all of a sudden, it was two hours later and -"

_Two hours?_ Rudy winced involuntarily. How had she lost _two hours?_ "What about your hand – do you remember hurting it?"

"Maybe I landed on it when I fell? My...arm...sorta hurts, too."

Rudy got up and silently closed the door to Jaime's room. "I need to have a look," he told her. "Can you take off the robe for me?"

Slowly, Jaime complied. Rudy gasped before he could stop himself. Jaime's left arm bore a clear, purpled 'twist pattern' bruise – with deep, angry fingermarks – just below her elbow. As she peeled her robe off, her hospital gown drifted open, exposing a large, fresh bruise on her side. Jaime had obviously been battered – but had it happened at the river, with someone possibly taking advantage of a fragile young woman's collapse...or had something much worse happened to her?

Rudy carefully probed the mark on her side with a gentle hand, causing Jaime to wince in pain. He pulled the robe around her body again; the interrogators didn't need to see this – at least, not now. Jaime's eyes filled with fresh tears. "Rudy, what happened to me?"

"I don't know," he said honestly, "but I promise we'll find out." He brushed the stray hairs from her face in a gesture of comfort and in tucking them back, located one possible reason for her loss of the two hours – there was a bump on the side of her head and an even larger one in the back, toward the base of her neck. He needed to get her down to X-Ray (preferably without attracting any attention). If his worst fears were true, the investigators would find out on their own, soon enough.

- - - - -


	21. Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty

Frank Trudeau had not run out of steam. "Mrs. Austin, you and Mrs. Marchetti have become close friends since her hospitalization, haven't you?"

"Yes, we have," Jenn replied, looking him directly in the eyes.

"You do know that she had a long-standing - and very serious – relationship with your husband?"

"Of course. In the _past_. That has nothing to do with our friendship – or your investigation, Sir."

"It does make the two of you becoming friends seem a bit....unlikely," Hansen put in.

"Exactly," Trudeau agreed. "How _did_ the two of you become close, Mrs. Austin?"

"We share common experiences."

"Like loving the same man?"

Jenn narrowed her eyes. "We've both been abused. It happened to me several years ago, and when Steve told me what Jaime had been through, I thought maybe I could help her."

"So you feel Mrs. Marchetti was abused?"

"Are you an idiot?" Jenn snapped. "He nearly killed her!"

"What sort of help did you offer her?" Hansen queried.

"Someone to talk to. I gave her some advice...and then just...listened."

Trudeau leaned closer. "Advice about _what_?"

"I told her she needed to reclaim her life – divorce Michael before he had the chance to hurt her again...or worse. And I helped her find a divorce lawyer. Steve and I have been keeping her company while she's been here, trying to boost her spirits."

"Is that why you came here last night?" Trudeau asked.

"Yes."

"We know that you got here at 7:15 – alone - and left at 7:45, with Peggy Callahan. Where was your husband, Mrs. Austin?"

"I...don't know. Peggy and I went out for coffee."

"What time did you return home?"

"Just before 10."

"Was Colonel Austin home at that time?"

"No. But -"

"Thank you, Mrs. Austin. We'll need you to wait here until we've questioned your husband."

- - -

Rudy stood behind the nurses' station, feigning an absorbing interest in the file in front of him but really eying the door to the room where Jenn was being questioned. The instant he saw the three men leave and head in Steve's direction, he walkie-talkied the nurse who was waiting in Jaime's room. "Wheel her down now," he said urgently. The X-Ray machine was warmed up and ready and he'd already helped Jaime onto a gurney so she could quickly be wheeled in and back out again. Rudy had the feeling that Steve's interrogation would give them plenty of time...

- - -

Steve was on his feet and pacing; the wait had been torturous. He declined to take a seat when the investigators invited him to do so, feeling stronger and more in control if he remained standing.

"Colonel Austin," Trudeau began, "can you tell us where you were last night between 6pm and midnight?"

"Mostly running errands."

"For six hours? Must've had an awful lot of errands."

"Yeah, well, stuff piles up."

Trudeau frowned. "Were you supposed to meet your wife here, to visit Mrs. Marchetti?"

Steve wished he knew what Jenn had already told them. "Yes," he admitted. "But I got tied up and didn't make it."

"How long were you 'tied up'?"

"'Til around 10:30, I guess." Steve continued to lead the interrogators in circles, giving them only what they specifically asked for (and in as few words as possible) for nearly 20 minutes.

"Who do you believe killed Michael Marchetti?" Trudeau demanded in closing.

Steve shrugged. "Since you fellows haven't broken out with any information, like how he died or exactly when...I wouldn't begin to hazard a guess."

"We _will_ be in touch," Trudeau snapped as the three men opened the door and allowed Jenn to rejoin her husband.

Jenn flew to Steve's side, leaning gratefully into the comfort of his arms. "Are we...okay?" she asked, when the three men were gone.

"Yeah. At least, I think so."

"Did you tell them....about Rudy....?"

Steve kissed his wife, trying to calm her fears. "They didn't ask."

- - - - -


	22. Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty-One

Once Jaime was safely back in her room, Rudy gave her something for the pain and headed back to his office to examine the X-rays. Thankfully, Jaime's arm was not broken and he saw no sign of fracture to her skull but several of her ribs were cracked in a doubled-back pattern that told him she'd been struck multiple times in what must have been a brutal, desperate struggle.

Rudy quickly snapped off the light to the X-ray box when he heard footsteps approaching, then sighed with relief when it was Steve and not Trudeau or Hansen who entered the office.

"Can I talk to you, Doc?" Steve requested, already settling into a chair. He glanced over at the darkened box on the wall. "Those Jaime's X-rays?"

"They are," Rudy confirmed. He started to reach up to turn the light on and show them to Steve when it hit him. He turned and closed the office door. "How did you know she needed X-rays?"

"I just assumed, since you were looking at X-rays...and she's your only patient. Is she alright?"

"She will be – I hope," Rudy answered. To himself, he added _if those government goons don't rip her to shreds..._ "I really appreciate your help last night," Rudy said quietly. He and Steve were both fishing for the same information, each wondering what the other had told the Feds.

"What were you doing out driving without a tire jack?"

"I'm just glad you came along," Rudy told him. "Steve...they know I was in Maryland."

"How -?"

"I told them. They know I had a flat tire and never made it to see Michael." Rudy looked solemnly at his friend. "I didn't tell them who changed the tire."

"Thank you," Steve said, sighing with relief. "That was actually what I wanted to talk to you about. I...ah...I didn't mention it to them, either."

"Steve, is there anything you need to tell me?" Rudy probed quietly.

"I was really hoping I could see Jaime, if she's up to it."

"She's under heavy sedation. She was....hurt pretty badly last night."

"Oh? What happened – did she say?"

"No. She took a couple of nasty blows to her head, which is probably why she doesn't remember. That, or the trauma was simply too much for her."

"Why don't you let me talk to her? I'll wait 'til she wakes up."

Rudy nodded his assent. He got the strange feeling that all of the puzzle pieces were falling into his lap, one by one. The trouble was, they didn't form a picture. Not yet, anyway.

- - -

Oscar, Hansen and Trudeau returned to Hansen's office to regroup and decide on their next move. They touched briefly on each of the suspects. Callahan and Jenn could be eliminated, with witnesses and receipts that backed up their whereabouts for the time in question. Rudy and Steve had both motive and opportunity – and Rudy had freely admitted his intention to see Michael. Jaime (with the best motive of the lot) had been AWOL from the hospital for several of the hours in their time frame, with her whereabouts unknown.

"I have to say, the wife looks pretty damn guilty to me," Trudeau theorized. "I don't buy for a second that she bruised her hand in a fall."

"Jaime is right-handed," Oscar pointed out. "Not left-handed and not ambidextrous. If she was going to take a swing at someone, it would be with the _other_ fist."

"The bionic one," Hansen added. "Wells is known to be very close to Mrs. Marchetti – almost a surrogate father. It's conceivable that he really _did_ make it to see Michael...and took revenge for her sake. Maybe his car broke down on the way _back_ to DC."

Oscar shook his head. "I don't have a theory – because I don't think we've gotten the full truth out of anyone yet – but there is one more witness the two of you need to question. **Me**. I _was_ in Maryland last night....and I saw Michael Marchetti."

- - - - -


	23. Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-Two

"Don't try to cover for your friends, Goldman," Trudeau snapped.

"That would be foolish," Oscar acknowledged. "I'm telling you the truth."

"Alright – we'll play along. The floor is yours." Trudeau crossed his arms and glared skeptically across the table.

"Rudy Wells managed to get something of a confession out of Marchetti," Oscar began.

"We _know_ that."

"Personally, I didn't think there was enough on that tape to charge him. I wanted to make sure he never saw the light of day again – that he was locked away for good, either in that asylum or the worst hell-hole of a prison we could find for him. So I went to see him yesterday, to try and get him to talk about what he did...on the record," Oscar explained.

"And did he?" Hansen queried.

"No. In fact, the only thing he said to me was that he wanted to see his wife. I reminded him that she was still in the hospital – and that he had put her there – but for some reason, he was convinced that Jaime was coming to see him..."

- - -

"How long do you think she'll be asleep?" Steve queried.

Rudy poured two mugs of coffee and handed one to Steve. "You'll have time for a couple of these."

"Thanks. I – uh – didn't really get much sleep."

Rudy hesitated, but just had to ask. "Steve...how was it that you found me last night?"

"Right place, right time?"

"Maybe," Rudy allowed, "but what were you _doing_ out there, in the middle of nowhere – in _Maryland_?"

"Sight-seeing?"

"Steve..."

"Let me talk to Jaime first, okay?"

"If you're planning to talk about yesterday, that might be a little difficult," Rudy told him. Steve raised an eyebrow in reply. "Jaime took a couple of nasty blows to her head."

"Really? How...bad?"

"Bad enough that she doesn't remember what happened. If you know -"

"I had no idea she was really hurt. She didn't tell me – I mean...I didn't know."

"Did you see Jaime yesterday?" Rudy demanded. (Was this the final puzzle piece?) "Steve, she's my patient. I need to know what happened to her."

"You're right," Steve admitted. "You do. Please....just let me see Jaime first, alright? I need to talk to her...alone."

- - -

Steve closed the door to Jaime's room and took the chair next to the bed. "Jaime....?" he said, very softly. At first, there was no response then slowly, she began to stir, wincing in pain as she rolled onto her side before she was fully awake. Her eyes fluttered open and she seemed startled that she wasn't alone. "It's only me," he told her gently. She panicked as though waking from a nightmare – or waking _into_ one. "We need to talk," Steve whispered. "About last night...."

- - -

"...So that's really all I can tell you," Oscar concluded. "I saw Michael at 5:00, left him around 5:45 – and he was most definitely still alive. I spent a little time talking with Security and then I left."

"What did you discuss with hospital Security?" Hansen demanded.

"I wanted to make sure that any statements Marchetti might have made were properly documented – and that I was to be made aware of any visitors he might have had."

"Were you notified of any such visitors last night?"

"No, I was not." Oscar looked across the table at both men. "I'd like to continue in this investigation, but if you feel the need to pull me out -"

"I don't believe that's necessary," Hansen replied. "Once the Security guard in question verifies your arrival and departure times, we'll be able to clear you – no problem."

- - - - -


	24. Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-Three

Steve tried to tread very carefully. "What do you remember about last night?"

"I was by the river..." Jaime began in a weak, frightened voice.

"Do you remember _why_ you went to the river?"

"No...but I think I was crying..."

"Jaime, you went to sit by the water because you were upset," Steve confirmed. "Do you remember what happened just before you left the hospital?"

"No...."

Rudy had told him that Jaime would probably be very fuzzy on events that happened immediately before or after she was injured. Pushing her too hard could be traumatizing or even dangerous, so he had to proceed as gently as possible. Still, Rudy didn't quite realize how important it was that she _remember_. "When I found you by the water, you were very upset. Do you -"

"You...were there?"

"Yeah. You told me you'd gotten a phone call..."

- - -

After an uncomfortable hour while his story was being verified, Oscar officially rejoined the investigative team. "We never _really_ doubted you," Trudeau said (almost convincingly). "Just procedure."

Oscar nodded. "I understand. Was Security able to fill in any other gaps for you?"

"We spoke to the head of security for the evening shift – one of the three men you actually met with – and he mentioned that they allowed Marchetti to make a phone call. Why – I don't know."

"To a lawyer?" Oscar theorized.

"Hardly," Hansen explained. "He called his wife."

Trudeau nodded, his face grim. "Looks like we need to have another talk with that little lady..."

- - -

Jaime was terribly confused. "I got....a phone call? Who was it?"

"Try and remember, Jaime – it's very important."

Jaime closed her eyes, concentrating mightily. Steve could see tiny tear drops of frustration and fear pearling and ready to fall. "I don't know..."

"Don't try so hard," Steve suggested. "Just picture yourself answering the phone...and let it come to you. Don't force it."

He could see the exact moment the call came back to her. Jaime's eyes snapped wide open...and she shuddered. "_Michael_...called me."

"That's right. You went to the water to think because he upset you so badly – but you never told me what he said."

"He....he wanted....to see me. Said he'd give me a divorce....if I came right away...by myself..." She looked up at Steve, pleading not to go any further – but she knew she had to. "I didn't wanna go – didn't wanna see him. But....I _had_ to..."

Steve took her hand, knowing the rest – **if** she could remember it – would be painfully difficult. "What else do you remember...?"

"I was sitting on the bench...and you found me."

"You were right around the corner from the donut shop," Steve explained. "I was stopping to get a box of your favorites and I saw you sitting there. You told me about the phone call, and said you were planning to walk to Maryland."

"Yeah...I remember that, I think."

"You'd never have made it there walking," he said gently. "Your legs are still shaky. So -"

Jaime's face blanched to a deathly-white. "You...drove me there."

"Yes. The guard wasn't at his post, so I just sort of twisted the latch and drove in. Parked off to the side, in the middle of a bunch of staff cars."

Jaime was crying huge, silent streams of tears as more of the memories returned. "We went in, but the place looked sorta empty. Then I – I heard...Oscar." She was struggling to grab each fleeting bit of information as it drifted through the thick fog that enveloped her mind. "He was talking to some men – guards, I think -"

"That's right," Steve confirmed.

"He said Michael wasn't to be allowed any visitors but if anyone tried to see him, that the guards should let Oscar know right away. But....I had to see Michael....or he wouldn't....Steve, I _had_ to see him!"

She was too distraught to continue. Steve gathered Jaime into his arms as her body convulsed with quiet, helpless sobs.

- - - - -


	25. Chapter 24

***Warning - this chapter is violent...

Chapter Twenty-Four

"You need to try and remember the rest," Steve finally told her, lowering Jaime back into the nest of pillows. "The guards were still busy talking to Oscar, so I jimmied the lock and you went inside. I hid around the corner to make sure no one was coming."

Jaime took several deep, strengthening breaths. "And...I saw Michael..."

"Yes, you did. I know this is awfully hard for you – and I know you're in pain – but..."

Jaime nodded. "I know....I have to face the 'Suits' sooner or later."

"Yep." He smoothed the hair from Jaime's face and sat back to allow her to take her time.

Like water seeping in through a small-but-growing leak, every horrible second came flooding back to her...

_Michael's smile was warm, at first. "I didn't think you'd come," he told her. When the door closed behind Jaime and he knew they were alone, he sneered. "If you were smart, you'd have stayed away."_

"I want a divorce, Michael," Jaime said in a calm, clear voice. "I'm _**getting**__ a divorce. You've got no grounds to fight it."_

"But – I love you. Don't you see that?" He stepped toward Jaime, but she firmly stood her ground.

"It's over, Michael. You said if I came here -"

"There was no other way to get you here. I had to talk to you – to make you understand -"

"It won't change anything," Jaime insisted.

"You're _**not**__ leaving me, Jaime. I won't allow it to happen."_

"It's already happening. I've talked to a lawyer. This is the last time you'll see me, Michael – ever."

"_**NO**__!" In one violent motion, Michael reached out, grabbed Jaime's left arm and twisted it behind her back, forcing her body up against his. He leaned his head over her shoulder as he kept her arm pinned back between them. "We are NOT getting a divorce."_

His breath on the back of her neck made Jaime feel sick with fear – and anger. She raised her right arm and swung, but with her body twisted (and unable to turn enough to see him), she could only flail at the air. Finally, her energy almost spent, she connected with the side of his head, sending Michael reeling. Jaime bolted for the door but his hand snaked out and latched onto one of her still-weakened legs. He yanked sideways with a cruel, vicious snap and Jaime tumbled, slamming her head against the chair before hitting the hard concrete floor.

_For several terrible seconds, she couldn't catch her breath. Jaime tried to scramble to her feet, but Michael's foot swung out and caught her side and his fists began to pummel her as she rolled into a ball, trying to protect herself. Michael grabbed her as though she was a rag doll, slamming her into the floor and pinning her there. Jaime's vision was beginning to blur....and she could feel his hands circling her neck, tightening slowly, cutting off her air._

Desperate to stop his lethal assault, Jaime gathering all of her quickly-waning strength and slammed her right fist into the side of his head, knocking him off of her and sending him flying into the wall. He slid to the floor and didn't move. Jaime was barely able to raise her head and make sure he wasn't coming back to finish her off before she, too, faded into the blackness.

By the time she had finished relating every horrific detail, Jaime was trembling violently. Steve gathered her back into his arms and rocked her gently. "You did the only thing you _could_ do," he assured her. "You're alive....so that means you did it right."

- - - - -


	26. Chapter 25

***Warning - violence

Chapter Twenty-Five

"There's just a little more," Steve prodded carefully, when Jaime had settled down. He had been around the corner, blessing their luck at the fact that Oscar was so thoughtfully – and completely unknowingly – keeping the guards out of their hair. Michael's cell was sound-proofed, so Steve had no clue about the life and death struggle going on inside. But the conclusion Jaime had just come to was **not** the way he'd found either of them when he finally opened the door. "Try and remember," he said gently.

"I can't...." Jaime pleaded. It was too much to bear.

"You have to, Sweetheart," he said, rubbing her forehead to keep her at least somewhat soothed. Reluctantly, Jaime closed her eyes and let the final ugliness seep like black ooze into her mind.

_Jaime woke solely by instinct – Michael was crawling across the floor, badly injured but coming for her just the same. Jaime's head was spinning wildly and she could barely see as she scrambled toward the door. She almost made it, her fists pounding the door in frustration as Michael's arm snaked around her waist and pulled her back against him._

"I told you that you weren't going to leave me," he growled. "I wasn't kidding." His hands once again closed around her throat and Jaime took one more desperate lungful of air, fearing it would be her last. She was just about to surrender to what seemed to be her fate when the door flew open.

"Get your hands off of her!" Steve demanded. Michael's grip only tightened. Steve didn't take the time to try and pry his his hands away. Instead, he grabbed Michael by the collar and slammed his head into the wall until his grip on Jaime loosened.

"Steve..." Jaime whispered, her strength completely gone. "He was gonna...."

"I know," Steve said, scooping her into his arms. "We need to get you out of here – and back to the hospital so Rudy can take care of you."

"But...Michael..."

It was obvious to Steve that Michael was now beyond medical help. The guards had just left out the front, still conversing as they walked Oscar to his car, so Steve silently closed the cell door and carried Jaime out the rear exit, setting her gently in the back seat of his car and covering her with a blanket. After forcing the latch, he drove slowly out the back gate and pulled over once he was a few miles away, on an isolated county back road. Steve got out of the car and leaned into the back seat for a closer look at Jaime. She was dazed, only semi-conscious, but wasn't bleeding and didn't appear to have any broken bones.

"I'm...okay...." she said very quietly, sensing his eyes looking her over. "Just really...really....tired."

Steve tucked an extra sweater under her head and got back into the driver's seat. "You'll be okay," he assured her. "Everything will be alright."

"Steve...?"  
_  
"Just rest now, Sweetheart," he told her, pulling back onto the road._

"We...can't tell anyone....what happened...._**please**__ don't tell them..."_

Steve didn't answer – because a car had pulled over on the opposite side, a little further up the road. "Rudy? What's he doing out here?" In his mind, this was perfect; he'd help Rudy with whatever the trouble was and Jaime would be back under her doctor's care that much sooner.

"You can't tell him, Steve!" Jaime pleaded. "Please....don't tell him..."

"You need help, Jaime." He looked back as he pulled the car to the side of the road. Jaime had covered herself completely with the blanket.

"Just....take me back to my bed...when you're done here...and he'll never know..."

- - -

Jaime's eyes filled with tears that Steve tried to brush away. "So you see," he summed up for her, as gently as possible, "you didn't kill Michael – **I did.**"

- - -

"I'm telling you it just isn't possible!" Rudy fumed at the three 'suits'. "You people have put her through enough today as it is – she just lost her husband!"

"Which is precisely what we need to speak with her about," Trudeau insisted. "_**Now.**_"

- - - - -


	27. Chapter 26

Chapter Twenty-Six

"You can threaten me," Rudy thundered, "and anywhere else, you would outrank me – but this is _my_ hospital and Jaime is _**my**_ patient! And unless you're prepared to handcuff me and drag me bodily off the premises, I'm telling you that you'll have to wait until tomorrow!" Rudy didn't know exactly how Jaime had been injured – and wasn't sure he _wanted_ to know – but he was certain she hadn't 'fallen off a bench'. Even if she had nothing to hide from the investigators, Rudy thought to himself, Steve was with her. From what Rudy had seen (and if what he suspected was true)...Steve had plenty to hide.

- - -

"He was....already hurt," Jaime countered, trying to temper Steve's guilt with some of her own. "I could've....I mean....maybe...I killed him."

"I struck the last blow," Steve reminded her gently. "And that's what I'll tell the Suits – when you're ready."

"I guess we have to...don't we?"

"It's better if we come forward now instead of waiting 'til they come to us. I think we ought to -" Steve stopped abruptly as Jaime held a finger to her lips, frowning in concentration.

Alerted by Rudy's raised voice, she was tuning in to the conversation down the hall. Suddenly, she slumped back against her pillows, her eyes closed in defeat. "We're too late," she told Steve. "They're already here..."

As if on cue, Hansen and Trudeau burst through the door without knocking, followed by an extremely reluctant Oscar – and by Rudy, his face reddened with fury. Oscar, even though he'd trailed his two cohorts, was the first to reach Jaime's bed. "Are you alright?" he asked quietly. She seemed quite pale and had obviously been crying.

Trudeau brusquely pushed Oscar away. "Goldman, if you can't remain impartial, I suggest you wait in the hallway. Take Colonel Austin and the good doctor with you."

"Nope," Steve said, crossing his arms and stubbornly refusing to budge from his seat at Jaime's side. "I'm not going anywhere."

"I could have you arrested – hold you without even charging you for as long as I damn well -"

"Go for it," Steve said, looking Trudeau straight in the eyes. "Just see how much cooperation you get from me after that."

Trudeau looked from one insubordinate male to the next, and his eyes finally rested on a still-puffed-up Rudy. "Not a chance," Rudy insisted, taking the seat across the room. "You're questioning _**my**_ patient – against my medical advice. I'm staying."

Trudeau sighed, then turned to glare at Jaime. "Alright, _Mrs. Marchetti,_" he began in a voice dripping with venom. "Tell me why you didn't disclose the fact that your husband called you on the day he died!"

"I didn't remember...I didn't think....that it was relevant..."

"You didn't think it was relevant?" Trudeau thundered. "You speak to the man and a few hours later, he ends up dead!" He leaned over the bed, inches from Jaime's face. "You'd better have a better explanation for your activities than 'I sat by the river'!"

Steve reached up with one arm and carefully but firmly lifted Jaime's interrogator away from her, placing him a safe, decent distance from the bed. "I won't let you treat her like that," he said firmly. "She _wants_ to talk to you, but she doesn't need your threats. If you bully her like that again, I'll -"

"You'll _**what**_, Colonel? Just how far _would_ you go to defend her? Hmm? Maybe we should be talking to you, instead."

"Maybe you should," Steve agreed, matching the FBI man in hostility.

"Steve – no!" Jaime sat up in bed and grabbed Steve's arm. "I'm not gonna let you take the blame!"

Rudy stood up and strode over to place himself smack in the middle of the melee. "Neither one of you are taking _any_ blame," he stated calmly. He turned to Trudeau and Hansen. "Gentlemen, _**I**_ killed Michael Marchetti."

- - - - -


	28. Chapter 27

Chapter Twenty-Seven

"I'd like to give my statement now," Rudy told the investigators.

Steve shook his head. "Line forms behind me, Doc."

"_Stop it!_ Both of you just stop it!" Jaime insisted, rising unsteadily to her feet. "_Nobody_ else is taking the blame for this! I mean, none of it would've happened if it wasn't for me!" She stepped toward the three investigators (where Trudeau was trying to figure out WHO to slap his cuffs on) – but Steve held her back.

"None of this would've happened if it wasn't for _Michael_," he corrected softly. "Period."

Jaime sat down on the edge of her bed – her legs were shakier than she'd expected – and calmly faced the Suits. "Still, I'm the one who decided to go and see him -"

"Michael called her," Steve interjected.

Trudeau frowned. "We know that. Mrs. Marchetti, how did you get to Maryland?"

"I drove her," Steve answered. "I snuck her past the guards and opened Michael's cell so Jaime could see him. And...he tried to kill her."

Slowly at first, Steve and Jaime shared the story of what had happened, with each of them trying to shoulder the lion's share of the blame. As they reached the part where Michael had first been injured, the words flowed out like water from a crumbling dam – faster and faster until they reached the end.

"I made Steve take me back to the river afterward," Jaime concluded. "I'm not sure why, though...maybe just to think."

The three suits stood silently for a few moments, taking it all in, then Hansen was the first to turn to Rudy. "Doctor? I'm guessing you have something to add...?"

Rudy took a deep breath. "When Steve helped me on the side of the road, I didn't see Jaime in the car – but I knew right away where Steve had been. I didn't ask him about it and I didn't call to have the guards check on Michael. If I had, maybe he could've been saved."

Steve shook his head. "He was dead when we left, Rudy."

"Are you sure?" Trudeau asked. "Did you check his pulse?"

"Well, no – but I'm sure. When I carried Jaime out, I turned her around so she couldn't see him. It was that bad."

"And you didn't bother to alert anyone or see if he could be helped?"

"My main thought was to get Jaime out of there safely."

Trudeau chuckled...and sneered. "I think your main thought, _Colonel_, was covering up a crime and trying to ensure you wouldn't get caught."

"To tell you the truth," Steve admitted, "that never entered my mind. Jaime had been hurt – _again_ – by that psycho and I just wanted to get her out of there and back where she could be helped."

"And she was unconscious?" Trudeau probed.

"For the most part. She was drifting, but more out than in."

Trudeau nodded. "That makes _you_ the responsible party, Colonel. And you're under arrest." He snapped the handcuffs around Steve's wrists and pulled him away from the bed.

"NO!" Jaime screamed. "It wasn't his fault! He was _protecting __**me**__!_"

"Jaime...don't...." Steve cautioned softly.

"You can't take him!" Jaime cried as the men began to lead Steve away. "I did it – arrest me! _I killed Michael!_"

Rudy was torn between going after Steve and giving the suits a good piece of his mind...and tending to his distraught patient. The doctor in him took precedence, and he gently eased Jaime back onto her pillows, administered another pain shot and held her hand as she tried in vain to fight it off before she finally drifted into an uneasy, restless sleep.

- - - - -


	29. Chapter 28

Chapter Twenty-Eight

It was a morning for visitors. In his solitary Federal cell, Steve met his new attorney for the first time. They went over every detail of what had happened to Michael, from the very beginning (how he'd brought Jaime back from the dead and they'd slowly built a relationship together – and then a marriage), through the day he came so close to killing her, to the night he died. Steve was careful to leave nothing out, not even the unflattering parts; he knew his future depended on it.

The attorney took it all in (recording it for future reference) and nodded his understanding when Steve was done. "Mrs. Marchetti was in visible, imminent peril when you went back to find her," he summed up.

"Absolutely," Steve confirmed. "He had her by the throat – she couldn't breathe."

"And he was already seriously injured?"

"Yes. They both were. But somehow he got the upper hand...and he was _killing_ her!"

The attorney nodded again. "How badly would you say he was already injured?"

"In other words, do I think what Jaime did could've killed him?" Steve clarified.

"Well, yes."

"I don't know. He was dazed – but completely enraged. He still had enough strength to – to do what he did."

"And you believe he was dead when you left him?"

"I know he was. His neck was bent at the wrong angle. I just slammed his head into the wall because my only thought was to get Jaime away from him."

"It wasn't your intention to kill him?"

"No," Steve insisted.

"But you did know at the time that – given your special capabilities – your actions were extremely likely to cause his death?"

"Yes, I suppose I did. But I wasn't thinking of that at the time."

"We have an excellent chance of beating this," the attorney affirmed. "As soon as the autopsy report is in, I'll file a Motion for Dismissal of all charges. For now, we just have to wait."

- - -

Jaime had cried herself to sleep and woke up still in tears. To Rudy's dismay, she had refused sedation...and her breakfast. Her distress only deepened when her visitor walked in. "Aw, don't cry...please," Jenn said softly, reaching out to embrace her. "We'll beat this."

"How?" Jaime whispered. "Steve and I....we...killed him."

"Did you have any other choice?" her friend asked reasonably. She took Jaime's chin in her palm and tilted her head so Jaime met her calm, unwavering gaze. "It'll be okay – we will _all_ be okay."

"I'm so sorry I got Steve into this," Jaime pleaded. "It's all my fault."

"It was _Michael's_ fault! Nobody else's!" Jenn told her firmly. "You are NOT to blame – for any of it! Do you hear me?" Jaime couldn't answer. "You need to hear that and _believe_ it! Steve has a wonderful attorney. He'll be wanting to get a statement from you, but not until you see your own attorney. They told me the OSI will be sending one over this morning for you. You'll meet with him before you talk to anyone else." Jenn patted Jaime's hand and gave her a smile. "This will all work out....just wait and see."

- - -

Oscar was somber as he and Russ entered the FBI building and made their way to Trudeau's office. Frank and Jack Hansen looked up expectantly, then did a double-take when they saw that Oscar wasn't alone. "Mark Russell will be taking my place on the investigative team," Oscar announced simply. "You have one more confession to hear. Mine."

- - - - -


	30. Chapter 29

Chapter Twenty-Nine

"Oscar," Jack Hansen sighed, "we've already taken your statement. We know you were there – and that you saw Marchetti. What else could you possibly have to tell us?"

"How about the rest of the story?" Oscar said grimly. "What I told you _was_ the truth. I did see Michael. When he told me he wanted to talk to Jaime – and that she was coming to see him – I decided to stick around. I was only talking to the guards to stall for time."

"And why is that?" Trudeau asked.

"I know Jaime, and I know that if Michael was able to reach her and he manipulated things just right, Jaime would find a way to see him – hell or high water. All he had to do was play on her emotions...and I was certain he did," Oscar explained. "I was about to leave when I saw Steve, with Jaime right behind him. I walked back toward the office because I knew the guards would follow me – and I kept them busy long enough for Jaime to visit with her husband."

"Now why would you do that?" Trudeau probed. "Knowing what a danger he could be to her?"

"Like I said, I know Jaime. I knew she wouldn't be able to rest – to let this go – without some form of closure. She has a good head on her shoulders and is fully capable of defending herself -"

"To the point of murder," Trudeau grumbled. "She should be in a cell right next to Austin's."

Oscar shook his head. "I thought she'd be okay. I was _certain_ she'd be okay...."

"What happened next?" Russ asked gently.

"I kept one eye on the hallway because I knew Steve was right around the corner. When I saw him head for Michael's cell, I led the guards outside. I waited in my car until I saw Steve pull out of the back of the lot, then...I went back inside."

"You went back in!" Trudeau sputtered. "Why weren't we informed of that when we talked to Security?"

Oscar shrugged. "Maybe you didn't ask the right person." He took a deep, steadying breath and then calmly related the rest. "The guards were just about at the end of their shift when I went to Michael's cell. The door was closed, but the lock was in pieces, so I opened it. Michael was on the floor; his neck was broken. I leaned down and checked him – there was no pulse. He was definitely gone."

"And of course, you notified Security immediately," Trudeau said in a voice that oozed sarcasm.

"No. I didn't. I went to the Security office and told Michael's guard that I had looked in on him and everything was fine. Saved him the trouble of doing a shift-change prisoner check."

"That's why the death wasn't reported until morning," Hansen deduced.

"Right."

Trudeau frowned and began to pace furiously. "So you not only covered up a death – you aided and abetted the murderers!"

Oscar shrugged. "You could say that. Or you could say that I made sure justice was served to someone who thoroughly deserved it, in order to protect someone who truly deserves to be safe."

Before any of the Suits could react to that statement, Trudeau's intercom buzzed urgently. "Private messenger, Mr. Trudeau," his secretary chirped. "He needs to make a delivery into your hands only."

"Send him in." Trudeau signed for the small, thin package and sent the messenger on his way before tearing open the envelope. He looked up at the others. "Gentlemen....the autopsy report is here."

- - - - -


	31. Chapter 30

Chapter Thirty

Frank Trudeau grew paler and whiter, the further his eyes scanned down the report. When he was finished, he set the file down on his desk and moved – wraith-like – toward the window, his back to the group.

"So....?" Hansen queried. "Who killed him?"

"He died of a broken neck," Trudeau responded without turning around.

"Then we've got Austin dead-to-rights," Hansen surmised. "We can throw away the key. Frank....?" When Trudeau didn't answer, Hansen picked up the file himself and began to read. Below the actual cause of death...he found it. After digesting the information himself, he read it aloud.

"_Guards report decedent enraged the afternoon of his death, the result of emergence delirium from Sodium Pentothal administered during questioning by Frank Trudeau, Federal Bureau of Investigation...._"

Three jaws threatened to hit the floor in shock as three heads turned accusingly toward the FBI man. Oscar could barely speak. "You....you caused all of this!"

"He died of a broken neck," Trudeau repeated.

"Maybe so," Russ added, "but none of this would've happened if you hadn't worked him into a fury – and then left him alone."

"He seemed fine when I left him..."

"The delirium may not have fully set in yet," Hansen growled. "Dammit, Frank! There should've been a doctor there to supervise – and you should've _told_ us about all of this!"

Trudeau finally turned around. "I...didn't know..." he said feebly.

"Steve Austin was merely defending Mrs. Marchetti against a monster – a _lethal monster_ – that you created." Jack picked up the phone and insistently held it out until Trudeau took the receiver. "Make it right," Hansen demanded.

"This is Frank Trudeau," the beaten-down Suit said quietly. "Get me Ben Simmons at Federal Holding." His fingers tapped anxiously on the desk as he waited, withering under three angry glares. "Ben? Frank. Release Colonel Austin immediately. All charges have been dropped. That's right – _immediately_."

- - -

Jaime and Jenn sat together in silence for a very long time, both thinking about the two men who had been so abruptly removed from their lives – one gone forever and the other's future uncertain. Still unaware of what the autopsy report might reveal, Jaime stared blankly at her hands, reflecting that for all she knew, they had quite possibly become the instruments of her own husband's death. A guilt she didn't dare give voice to threatened to consume her.

Jenn saw the shift in her friend's gaze and reacted immediately, grasping both of Jaime's hands gently in her own. "These are good hands," she reiterated softly. "Loving hands. Hands that defended you when you had no other choice – and I thank God for that."

Jaime nodded, forcing herself not to cry. "I really....loved him," she whispered.

"I know."

"Maybe if I had tried a little harder....gave him a little more attention or was a little more loving -"

"Jaime, you are one of the most loving, caring people I've ever met. There was nothing you could've done differently -"

"Maybe if I'd -"

"Maybe if you'd flapped your arms hard enough, you could've flown to the moon," Jenn said kindly. "That would've been more likely than stopping the speeding freight train named Michael."

"I think any trips to the moon would best be left to me," a cheerful voice called from the doorway.

"_Steve!_" Jenn flew into her husband's arms while Jaime beamed at them both from the bed. "How did you...?"

"Long story," Steve told her, leading back over to Jaime's bedside. "How're _you_ doing?" he asked.

"Better now," Jaime confirmed. "You...made bail?"

"I'm _free_."

"It's over?" both women asked in near-perfect unison.

Steve nodded, smiling jubilantly. "It's over." He dipped Jenn low for a joyful, passionate kiss, then kissed Jaime on her forehead. "Time to get you well...and outta here!"

- - - - -


	32. Epilogue

Epilogue

"You're really going back to Ojai?" Jenn asked as she and Steve helped Jaime prepare for the next morning's flight. After her release from the hospital, Jaime had spent a couple of weeks at an OSI apartment while she sorted out her feelings and chose her next move.

"It really is 'Home'," Jaime sighed. "And Jim and Helen will be there, so I won't be alone." She'd been unable to go back to the house she and Michael shared and had finally finished sorting through the belongings her friends had boxed for her. "I'm gonna miss you guys an awful lot, though...."

Steve peered out the front window. "Looks like it finally stopped snowing. If the plows got enough of a head start, your flight should be safe for take-off tomorrow."

"Too bad we can't bury that Trudeau idiot in it," Jenn grumbled. "I can't believe he's not going to trial."

Steve shrugged. "He didn't really kill anyone." Trudeau had been censured – severely reprimanded – for his carelessness, but no charges had been filed.

"At least Steve's not in jail – and we're all okay," Jaime chimed in. She looked wistfully at her friends as she sealed up the last box. "You'll...come out to visit, right?"

"Of course," both Austins promised.

Jaime joined them at the window. The snow had not quite reached the bottom of the window ledge but was plenty high enough to have blanketed the entire outside world in crystalline white. "So pretty..." Jaime marveled. "Michael kept me away from it for so long....why?"

There were no words. Steve and Jenn's hands met as they each wrapped a supportive arm around their friend's shoulders. Suddenly, Jaime perked up, her body jumping with excitement. "There's something I _need_ to do – and you can help me!"

That evening, when Oscar and Rudy stopped over to say goodbye, they found Jaime sitting by the window, looking jubilant. The lawn outside was nearly cleared of snow and smack-dab in the middle was a huge, grinning snowman, a halo of snow angels all around his base.

END


End file.
